


Good cop bad cop

by maybeillride



Series: Bad Romance [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: ...basically some questionable ethics right here, But at least it's, Consensual, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Interrogation, M/M, Police Officer Matsuoka Rin, Police Officer Yamazaki Sousuke, The incident report's gonna be epic, Yakuza Lowlife Nanase Haruka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeillride/pseuds/maybeillride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They bust apart, the guy sliding way back in his chair as far as the cuffs will let him, Sousuke falling back to awkwardly lean his ass into the table. The guy blows those incredible blue eyes wide open.</p><p>“Oh, God! Do all cops kiss like you?” He flutters his long lashes, then laughs, these little huffs that Sousuke would call “cute” if this guy wasn’t a fucking sociopath hammering all his buttons. “Oh, gimme some more of that law and order.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good cop bad cop

**Author's Note:**

> One of the weirdest damn things i've ever written. If it makes any sense to you, you deserve a prize ;D

Sousuke knows the suspect is trouble at the first sight of Rin’s face.

He expected to see his partner coming to him for an assist in his interrogation, he’s just a little surprised at how _fast_ it took. He glances at the time in the corner of his monitor. It’s been … all of fifteen minutes since Rin headed down the hall to the last interview room, striding with that trademark Matsuoka purpose, like he was gonna fucking crack the case right then and there. It was almost cute. Stack of files in his arms, even two mugs of the shitty station coffee balanced on top in an attempt to win the guy over through a simple act of human kindness.

The coffee is in fact what seems to be pissing Rin off most after he finishes his march back to Sousuke’s cube, dropping the files on his pristine desk with an irritated huff.

“Do you know that little fucker wouldn’t even take the coffee I brought him?” He crosses his arms across his chest, tie drooping almost sadly from where Rin has yanked it down from his neck. Sousuke notices with carefully concealed amusement that Rin’s wearing the one with little sharks embroidered discreetly all over it. Like the badass he isn’t.

Sousuke pushes away from his computer, leaning back in his chair as he faces his partner.

“God, you blame him? I quit drinking the stuff years ago. My ulcer’s never been better.”

Rin narrows his eyes. “That’s not the point, Sousuke. It’s a _tell._ You should’ve heard how he reacted when I offered it to him. Asshole looked down at it like it was a mug of liquid shit. Then he looked back up at me with _pity_ on his face.” He shifts the papers so he can ease up to sit on Sousuke’s desk. “Told me, he felt sorry for all of us, working our asses off just to deal with sociopaths every day and live on a government salary and drink this slop. He actually said ‘slop’. Like something from a bad gangster movie.” He leans over to whack Sousuke’s knee, eyebrows jumping like he’s been saving a final indignity.

“Then – then! – he told me he liked my suit. And had the nerve to _laugh in my face._ ”

Sousuke can’t help it, he has to huff a laugh at that too. Oh, this suspect is sounding more and more fun.

“Hey, man. Whose side are you on, anyway?” Rin mounts a full glower and Sousuke relents.

“Alright, alright. So. Did you actually manage to pry any meaningful information out of the guy before you stormed out of there?” He’s casual as he asks but watches his partner carefully, and is intrigued by the … almost _lost_ look he gets, staring over Sousuke’s head at the rain lashing the window.

“You know … those guys you just can’t move? Can’t get a thing from? Like you may as well be talking to the wall?” He pulls his faraway eyes back to meet Sousuke’s and he watches them shift from lost to pissed. “Yeah. That’s about it. Only this is a wall that insults you. Bonus.” He drops neatly off the desk, leaning over for a parting shot.

“… _and_ one that’s hotter than hell. And knows it. Be careful, man. That’s all I have to say.” With a last light smack on his shoulder, Rin sends him a cryptic look and turns, gathering his little stack of folders before he strides off to his own cube.

Sousuke doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t waste time strategizing or planning or even taking another look through the casefile to learn the guy’s name. It seems very clear what his next steps are, so he just stands, lumbers past the other investigators in their unit on their phones and laughing around someone’s monitor, turns into the hall. He heads to the last door and steps inside.

The room is bare, just a table and two chairs secured to the floor, a two-way mirror on the wall, camera lens winking at him from the corner. Sousuke closes the door firmly and immediately reaches over, flicking two switches next to the door.

“That’s the window and the camera,” he says casually as he turns back, getting his first look at their troublesome suspect. He wasn’t there when they brought the guy in – so he turns on his cop’s-eyes, drinking him in fully with just a long sweep down.

Rin wasn’t kidding: he _is_ hotter than hell, in a sort of sullen, I-don’t-give-a-shit way. He may be chained to the metal loop in the middle of the table, which is right up there on the list of disempowering positions. But you’d never know that, to look at him. He leans back in his insanely-overpriced black suit, black shirt unbuttoned past the boundaries of good taste, attractively-mussed black hair, cuffed hands folded neatly – almost serenely – on the table, just _staring_ at Sousuke with these … eyes. These ridiculously big eyes, so wide and bright-blue they almost make him look innocent, like a kid. Of course, it’s all a sham, given his rap sheet as long as Sousuke’s arm. The yakuza tattoo (a jagged, tribal-looking thing) on the side of his neck is a more honest indicator of what he’s all about.

Sousuke leans, too, against the wall, returning his eyes to the guy’s once he’s done with his once-over. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. The two-way and the camera are now off. Do you know what that means?”

The guy doesn’t move a centimeter, even though those steel chairs aren’t exactly comfortable. His face, too, that’s the other thing – it’s just as immobile as his body, and if he feels anything about being in custody, in this room with Sousuke, he isn’t showing it. But then his little mouth drops open all of a sudden, like a tiny trap door, and he’s answering Sousuke in this surprisingly low voice. A voice that shoots a hot little spark straight through him.

“Mmm. Does it mean you’re shy?”

Sousuke stares down, the guy stares up. If he thinks he’s funny, he’s not showing it, that near-mask of his unwavering. But something flickers in those giant eyes, just the same.

So Sousuke helps him out, pulling his face into a smile so slow and unnatural it even _feels_ evil. He adds an arm-cross, deliberate and exaggerated, his dress shirt straining to fit him all in.

“Do I seem shy to you?”

The guy bites his lower lip delicately like he’s honestly thinking about it, and his teeth are little and perfect – and his pink skin _pulls_ against them – and Sousuke resists the sudden urge to clear his throat.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know you.” He tilts his head to the side. “Your partner isn’t shy. That guy should be a kindergarten teacher. Too bad he’s a shitty cop instead.”

Sousuke unfolds from the wall to his full height, then somehow finds it in himself to tack on just a little more. He slowly starts walking to the table, putting each foot down almost haphazardly so it seems like he’s wandering, instead of the beeline he’s tempted to do.

“Shitty cop. Cute. You meet a lot of cops, then? Enough for a rating system?” He’s suddenly made it to the table hardly knowing how he got there, towering so high over the guy it’s almost hilarious. He’s _so_ tall this close that the guy should surely have to tip his head back to look at him comfortably. But he doesn’t move his head at all. Just flicks a cool look up through his overlong fringe.

“Well, I haven’t dated any, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Oh? Lemme show you what you’re missing,” Sousuke hits back, a little too loud, and flickers a paw-like hand out, tips this bitchy yakuza kid’s chin up. It isn’t a gentle romantic-comedy move; Sousuke suddenly feels like he’s grabbing a cat’s mouth to shove a pill in, and the look the guy gives him is all malice. Like a cat. _Point for me,_ he thinks.

Then Sousuke’s leaning down and diving in, grabbing the back of his little head in his other hand and smashing their lips together. This isn’t a gentle romantic-comedy move either. Sousuke can’t remember the last time a kiss felt so … _confusing._ He shoves in to the right, and the guy is coming in just as hard to meet him; he flips over to the left and the guy does the same. He’s like someone coming the opposite way down the sidewalk who keeps stubbornly not letting Sousuke get past. Even with Sousuke’s hand – firm, almost too-hard – trying to hold his head still.

They bust apart, the guy sliding way back in his chair as far as the cuffs will let him, Sousuke falling back to awkwardly lean his ass into the table. The guy blows those incredible blue eyes wide open.

“Oh, God! Do _all_ cops kiss like you?” He flutters his long lashes, then _laughs,_ these little huffs that Sousuke would call “cute” if this guy wasn’t a fucking sociopath hammering all his buttons. “Oh, gimme some more of that _law and order._ ”

“You asked for it, kid,” Sousuke rumbles, and he scoops the guy up under the arms and deposits him on the table, bent over on his elbows and snapping a fierce look back to him. No more mask, that’s for sure; he’s gone from mannequin to wild animal, and Sousuke wonders if _he_ looks just as wild, too, as he looms over the guy, pressed against his back.

“C’mon, Officer, come _on,_ ” the kid breathes, sending one eye back to him. “Scared I’m gonna report you?”

“Scared you’re gonna like it?” Sousuke shoots back, and is embarrassed at the little shake in his hands as he reaches around, yanks the guy’s fly down. His trousers drop to the floor and the silky somethings he’s wearing under that follow, and then he’s there, hot and solid in Sousuke’s hand. The guy lets out this little squeak, so many miles from his badass persona that Sousuke laughs into his ear.

Then he lets it take over, the sensory assault of having this man bent under him, handcuffs clinking faintly as he shifts and arches back and pushes his bare ass insistently against Sousuke. His hair tickles Sousuke’s cheek, some expensive cologne tickles Sousuke’s nose, and Sousuke groans like he’s in pain as he takes the first tentative thrust forward. The constrictions of his boxer briefs and his trousers somehow feel right, here in the interrogation room where the watchword is “constraints,” and the too-tight contact of those layers of fabric between him and the guy’s bare ass is the best kind of contradiction.

It doesn’t take either of them long. Sousuke grinds him relentlessly into the unforgiving edge of the table, one arm wrapped around his chest, the other hand working his length, both of them dangerously out of breath. The kid goes over first. He isn’t a screamer, just lets out these little near-whimpers that are so unexpectedly feminine – so _delicate –_ Sousuke’s coming right after him. He pulls back almost violently, forgetting he’s yanking the guy up with him until his handcuffs clank angrily into the ring.

“…ahhh!” Sousuke groans.

“Ow!”

“Haru! You okay?” Sousuke asks worriedly, losing the cop role immediately. He eases Haru down to the chair and leans over him. Their panting seems way too loud in the suddenly quiet room as he fumbles the cuffs key out of his pocket and pops the circles open. He’s careful to be gentle as he holds Haru’s wrists, running a finger over the angry red marks to be sure he didn’t break the skin.

When he’s satisfied, he glances back up to find Haru smiling slyly up at him.

“…what? What’s so fucking funny?”

Haru gets slowly to his feet, barging his way in between Sousuke’s legs against the table’s edge and draping his arms over Sousuke’s shoulders.

“Didn’t take you long to drop character,” he smirks.

“What the fuck! You want me to ignore a possible irreparable wrist injury? To a writer? Sorry, _kid,_ ” he defends, then can’t help it and ducks steeply down to give Haru a soft kiss. He just looks too damn good all dolled up like criminal lowlife.

Their lips give a little _smack!_ as Haru pulls back, still smiling. “I’m just giving you shit. I thought you kept up the ‘scary-cop’ act very well, actually.”

Sousuke slides his hands down the smooth skin of Haru’s low-back to the sweet curve of his ass, settling there happily. “Well, sure. That’s because I’m scary.”

Haru’s looking up at him blankly. “Mmmm. Sure.”

Sousuke rolls his eyes. “ _Makoto_ appreciates my scariness.”

Haru’s already wriggled out of his arms – so, so much like a cat again – and has neatly tidied himself up. It’s more than he can say for the state of his own pants so he thanks God for the color black.

“Of course he does. He’s _Makoto._ ”

Sousuke snickers and then Haru’s pushing him – not too gently – to the door.

“Go ahead. Tell Rin we’re done and thank Sasabe for the ‘criminal justice research time,’” he says. “I’ll clean up here.”

Sousuke’s snickering again at Haru’s weirdly-wifelike tendencies, wondering when he last felt this … _good._ Relaxed. Like he’s flipped some switch inside and a little dam of tension is gone. Haru’s already dismissed him, heading out the door to find paper towels, probably, but he manages to give Sousuke a smart smack on his ass as he goes.

Rin is, in fact, in animated conversation with Captain Sasabe as Sousuke comes up to them, standing in the little kitchen by the famous coffeemaker. Rin’s eyes brighten when he sees Sousuke, though he dials it down immediately given their public setting. Sasabe, on the other hand, lights up like a malfunctioning Christmas tree and slaps Sousuke almost violently on the back.

“Yamazaki-sensei! It’s such an honor to have you back with us again. Another brilliant novel is in the making, I bet!” he grins. “You know, the commissioner said I was crazy to let you use this station to research your last book. But I knew better!”

“That _was_ a great book,” Rin says sincerely, and Sousuke shoots a look over to see if he’s being mocked, but Rin’s such a good actor it’s impossible to tell. “Wait ‘til you see what Sousuke comes up with now that _Nanase Haruka_ is writing with him. It’ll be insane.”

“Well, we’d better get going so we can sit down and put our notes together,” Sousuke says hurriedly, wanting them away before this thing involves any more lying than they’ve already done. Poor Captain Sasabe’s eyes light up again (like the creative process is magical to him) and he makes a little bow.

“As always, I am at your service.” He grins over at Rin. “Matsuoka-san!”

Rin nods, bemused, and the stocky blond man bustles away. Haru drifts up at that moment as if he was waiting for the captain to be gone.

“Have fun?” Rin stage-whispers to Haru, who ignores him and shakes a paper cup off the stack next to the maker, filling it to the top. They watch in fascination as he takes a careful sip.

“Bleah. This coffee _does_ taste like shit,” he says darkly, pouring it down the sink.

“Snob. That’s the heartbeat of the common man,” Rin argues. Haru stares at him blankly.

There’s a _ping!_ as a text comes in, and Rin and Haru continue their melodramatic stare-off as Sousuke digs his phone out of his pocket.

 **The Tachibastard:** hi Sousuke – hope it was a lot of fun!! So sorry I couldn’t come :/ but I got a great idea. I did a shoot at a firehouse once and hit it off with the captain there. Bet he’d love to have us come do ‘research’. Anyone wanna slide down my pole? ;P

**Author's Note:**

> OK.  
> I have a writing list a mile long and i'm thrilled to do all of it. YET, what am i doing?? Screwing around with Sou and Haru in this bizarre alt universe thing that isn't even as porny as it claimed to be in my head. These boys (plus their guy-pals Rin and Makoto) (plus maybe even Kisumi, don't know when this is supposed to take place) just wanna have fu-un, doing their little almost-public role-plays in peace. God help the firestation, that's all i gotta say O.o ;)
> 
> Thanks Daxii for listening to me ramble and you for reading. And if you're like "...wha...?" you may wanna check out my weirdo SouHaru/OT5 epic, You and ME Could Write a Bad Romance. if you dare :)


End file.
